


Recurring Nightmare

by lovelylethargy



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-17
Updated: 2012-06-17
Packaged: 2017-11-07 23:19:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelylethargy/pseuds/lovelylethargy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the quotation, "My nightmares are usually about losing you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recurring Nightmare

I wake up in the cave, a thorough darkness pervading my senses. I throw an arm out, reaching for Katniss beside me, but am left grasping the stale air. I can just make out the vague form of our possessions against the wall – the pack, the rest of our food, and my jacket, the one that we have been taking turns wearing. I reason with myself, trying to ignore the panic rising in my chest that seems to claw at my neck. Where is she? 

‘She’s just gone to the stream for some water,’ I think in an attempt to regain some semblance of calm. ‘Just climbed a tree down the way to see what’s going on; how things are,’ I add. It’s weak, though, and I wish for once that I could convince myself the way I do others; they seem to believe every word that come from my mouth. My next move is dangerous and enormously stupid, but I won’t last long sitting quietly, waiting for her to return. I slip out of the cave cautiously, taking in my surroundings. The forest is eerily still, the trees rising hauntingly above in the night. The panic grips me tightly, closing around my throat - she’s nowhere in sight.

Desperate to extinguish the feeling that is spreading like vines to the rest of my body, I clear my throat as quietly as I can manage. I call her name softly, knowing that she hates how loud I am, but hear no discernible response. My mind races as I walk along the edge of the water; I’m hoping to find her just a few yards down, doing something utterly ordinary, like cleaning some fish. “Katniss?” I continue to call, louder as I mover farther along the bank. I know it’s not smart, but I’m barely holding back from screaming; my nerves are in a frenzy, each one buzzing and alert. 

The terror is building and suddenly I no longer care if I attract attention; I begin shouting her name as I break out into a sprint, searching frantically for her. I don’t care if every tribute comes to find me – if I know she’s safe, they can do whatever they like with me. “Katniss!” I’m screaming now, branches smacking my face and arms as I trip on the roots beneath my feet. I reach a clearing and there she is and I can feel the fear lift and the relief’s flowing through my veins and I can breathe again. I smile, thankful to have found her, and begin to walk toward her. 

I just have time to see her shake her head before it happens.

The knife appears out of nowhere, thrown with astounding accuracy and speed. The blade hits her chest and lodges there, a stain slowly spreading across the front of her shirt in a dark, precious red. It’s as though time has stopped in this moment, and my mind, only moments ago so insistent with questions and relief, has stopped as well. I can feel the blood pulse through my veins, the dull pounding of my heart a fitting background for the scene. A startling chill spreads through me, finally dragging me out of myself. Her face has contorted into a curious expression of shock and pain – and what I can only label as triumph. A twinge of anger flares in the dark recesses of my mind at this revelation. She still has the audacity to regard this as a contest of who can save who.

I’ve been moving, but I don’t realize it until I feel the weight of her in my arms. I catch her as she falls, her knees buckling beneath her, and a gust of air leaving her lungs from the pressure in her chest. 

I’m only vaguely aware of the monstrous sounds emitting from my mouth as I howl in desperation. I can’t believe this has happened. How did I ever let her out of my sight? I swore to myself that I would protect her. And now I can see it happening. She’s dying. The blood is spreading, seeping through the thin fabric of her shirt. My eyes are blurring, but I angrily blink away the tears that cloud my vision. She is staring at me so intensely – I wish I could do something, anything. I’ve completely forgotten the tributes who have killed her. Now I see only her. She opens her mouth, I think to speak, to tell me something in parting because we both know what comes next. But all that comes is a strangled sound and a slight trickle of blood. She’s still looking at me, concentrating on my face. And then she isn’t. And the pain hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m screaming and cursing and tearing my hair out. It’s a wonder I even hear them behind me, taunting me.

“Looking for your girlfriend, Lover Boy?”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work to be published on AO3, so feedback would be lovely.


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